


sea salt

by Anonymous



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Beach Sex, Cunnilingus, F/F, Semi-Public Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 01:40:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20788481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Newly wed Dorothea and Petra share a private moment upon the Brigid Beach.





	sea salt

Humid, Brigid air swirls through the beach, calm and quiet save for the soft echoes of gentle waves rolling against the sandy shore. For many, the sweltering heat is just another stable of Brigid culture, one that the natives had long ago become accustomed to. 

Such could not be said for Dorothea, the woman recently hailed as queen of the archipelago. She has not yet grown acclimated to the Brigid sun, and thus, was left vulnerable to its will. For a woman who chose to robe herself in lavish fabrics decorated with shimmering jewels, indulging herself in the ways of her new homeland was proving problematic, especially when it came to the beach the natives worshiped so. The sand had absorbed the rays of daylight, causing scorching pain to any unfortunate enough to lay barefoot upon it. Though the cool waves were tempting her so, not even the glistening waters could pull her away from the beauty that lay beneath her. 

Petra Macneary, her queen, her wife. Her naked body lay prone upon a tanned blank, one she had proudly woven herself, eager eyes glimmering upwards towards the songstress. A gentle hand stoked Dorothea’s cheek before snaking downwards to tug at the crimson dress that still concealed her form. 

“You will be far too hot,” the queen insists. “Come now.”

Dorothea hesitates. Though they are alone upon the beach, the thought of baring herself where prying eyes may linger causes a rosy blush. “I’m not so sure, Petra,” she speaks. “I know nudity is more acceptable in Brigid, but…”

“You are of Brigid now, my queen,” Petra continues. “Please. I am wanting to see you.”

Her throat begins to feel dry at the sight of her naked wife beckoning towards her. How could any woman resist? Dorothea undoes her corset and allows her dress to cascade from her curves. Petra’s impatient hands slither the clothing from her lover’s body, unhook the black lace bra that hold up immodest breasts. Hungry eyes remain locked upon her now exposed chest, and Petra darts out her tongue to lap at her cracking lips. 

“Enjoying the view?” Dorothea teases. 

“Yes. Very much.” Petra’s eyes narrow to slants as her forehead crinkles in frustration. “I am not wanting to be simply looking. You are giving me… temptation.”

“Mmm…” Dorothea hums. A burst of excitement tickles her stomach. To lay with Petra, bare upon the beach… such a thought sparks desire within. 

A hand reaches to stroke one of Dorothea’s ample breasts. A content smile makes its way to Petra’s face as her hand enjoys how soft her lover’s skin is. Dorothea squirms a bit, knowing well that they still lay within the public's eye. What were the locals to say, if they were to catch their queens entangled together, bodies bare? “I am wanting you,” whispers Petra, her gaze tinted with fantasy. “No one will be coming. Please.”

A fire lights itself within Dorothea’s core. To see her wife pleading for her body elicited a yearning deep inside. Though the danger of being caught remains, even the thought of the scandalous rumors that would surely brew only eggs her forward. Let them talk, she thinks, as she descends upon her wife with a hungry kiss. Two pairs of lips remain locked together as tongues reach for each other in a harmonious duet. A deep growl rumbles from Petra’s throat, and her hands move to massage her fellow queen’s breasts. The Brigid royals collapse onto the soft blanket, side by side, hands wandering all over. 

The two break apart from their kiss so that Petra’s mouth could occupy other areas. Her mouth dives to envelop one of her lover’s nipples, sucking and licking with earnest. A pleasure-filled squeal passes through Dorothea’s lips, and she finds her hands tangled in Petra’s purple locks, tugging, begging for more. Shivers electrify her, sending waves of pleasure down to her sex. Her body eagerly accepts as Petra’s ministrations continue, mouth hot and wet and oh so welcoming. But it is not enough, not nearly enough. 

“Let me take care of you, my love,” Dorothea insists. 

At her words, Petra withdraws herself. Dorothea presses Petra down upon their blanket and allows her eyes to drink in how wonderful and  _ beautiful  _ her perfect wife is. Magenta tattoos decorate her arms and legs, and her stomach is toned with years of battle. Scattered scars blend in with her other markings, but do not distract from her beauty. In fact, they only enhance it. Though Dorothea’s breasts were large, Petra’s only fell short of them by a thin margin. The mage could not stop herself from playing with her queen’s chest, kneading her mounds like a baker to fresh dough. A breath hitches within Petra’s throat and brown eyes alight with pleasure, eyelids drooping slightly. 

“Dorothea,” Petra whispers, the name sounding angelic upon her lips. “I am wanting-.. Mmm…”

Dorothea is by no means a cruel woman, so she opts to slink her head downwards. Her tongue traces the outline of her wife’s toned abs, tasting the remnants of sea salt upon her tanned skin. She feels Petra shiver underneath her experienced touch, and trails southwards. Her nose brushes past a light mound of pubic hair to reach Petra’s most private place, a special spot that no eyes other than hers had ever been allowed to gaze upon. Instinctively, Petra parts her legs so that her lover may once again view her. Green eyes admire the queen’s folds, slick with her juices and shining underneath the Brigid sun. A low moan sounds from Dorothea as she takes a moment to simply stare at her wife’s astounding beauty. 

“Always so wet and beautiful for me,” Dorothea husks. She buries her nose between Petra’s parted legs, breathing heat onto her slickness. A curious tongue prods tentatively at her core, tasting sweetness. 

“Ah!” Petra gasps, flinching a bit at the intimate contact. “You are always giving me such praise… I am not sure if I am deserving…”

“Of course you are,” the other queen purrs against Petra’s lower lips. Her tongue once again darts out to lick at her lover in full, tasting the entirety of her slit. Slow, languid licks begin to lap at Petra’s heat, indulging in the taste, worshipping it as though it were as rare as finely-aged wine. She is addicted to the taste of her wife, she craves it, needs it, and unashamedly loses herself to it. Meanwhile, the other woman melts into a mess of moans. A hand jolts downwards to pull Dorothea’s brown hair, forcing her face further against her, begging her to continue. Gentle licks turn into a rapid storm, enclosing upon Petra’s sensitive clit. She has eaten her wife out more than enough times to know exactly how she likes to be handled, where the most sensitive points are and how to make her scream. 

Dorothea no longer cares that they are in public. It is her desire to make her wife yell for pleasure, no matter how many can hear. Her tongue’s quest grows more courageous as it instead dips between Petra’s lower lips, parting them. The swear that emanates from Petra’s mouth encourages her wife to dive deeper, and soon enough, the woman is lapping at Petra’s insides as though she is parched. A finger services Petra’s clit, playing with the bud and rubbing it eagerly. Dorothea feels how Petra’s thighs are quivering against her head, how her legs have locked her firmly in place. She listens to the quick prayers that Petra is breathing out, calling to the spirits of her homeland in her own language. The songstress does not understand her, but knows well it means her queen is close to the edge.

A few more laps, a few more rubs, and she erupts. Petra curses loudly as her thighs quake, releasing in a powerful wave of pleasure. All the while, Dorothea continues to lick and moan, accepting her lover’s sweet juices into her mouth. She swallows every last drop and savors every bit of it. When she pulls away, her face is coated in a sheen of Petra’s juice.

Petra’s eyes are swirling, her head is spinning, and yet, she finds the strength to look down at her queen. “Th...that was…” breathes the huntress. “Ah… you have such talent, Dorothea.”

The songstress laughs, wiping the excess liquid off of her face. “I suppose I’ve gotten better since our first time. We’ve been doing this for so long, now. It’s only natural I’ve learned.”

“I wonder… if I am able to be doing as well as you,” Petra contemplates. 

“Well, why don’t we put that to the test?”

Petra does not need any more of a push. With those words, Dorothea is flipped beneath her, their positions swapped. It is now the Brigid royal’s turn to admire her wife’s body, with only a thin layer of fabric left upon it. Her finger hooks onto the black lace underwear and slips it off without a second thought. She wastes no time in parting the mage’s legs, and Dorothea easily complies with her queen’s wishes. Her sex is left bare to her lover’s eyes, cleanly shaven and as soaked as can be. Petra’s trail Dorothea’s folds, and her mouth suddenly feeling oh so very thirsty. 

Unlike Dorothea, Petra is not one to play games. She lunges for her like a wild animal, tongue already in a frenzy. Frantic licks stir Dorothea on, and soon enough, she is already moaning. Petra is like a storm when she makes love, an untamed beast, begging to be fully one with her queen. She revels in the sweetness of her queen’s juices, of how incredibly  _ hot _ and  _ slick  _ she had gotten just from eating the other woman out. Despite how it may seem, Dorothea had never been a hard woman to pleasure. Petra’s tongue plunges into Dorothea without a single warning, earning a loud gasp that echoes throughout the empty beach. If anyone were to be there, they were sure to notice the two queens now. Petra slips her tongue in and out of Dorothea’s depths, tasting her, listening to her moans and feeling how she’d jerk in shock each and every time as though it were a completely new sensation. Dorothea’s insides are just so incredibly hot and tight that Petra cannot hold herself back, cannot control her primal lust. 

“Petra… Petra…!” Dorothea chants. Her whole body is trembling, gasping in heated bliss. “More…! More…!”

Petra’s tongue pries for Dorothea’s hot depths, desiring to taste her most hidden places. She rolls Dorothea’s clit between her fingertips while she feels Dorothea’s insides begin to contract and clench around her, a sign that she was close. A few more laps at her inside, and she comes undone, a flood of juice rushing forth as her whole body convulses and a pleasured cry fills the ocean air. Just as Dorothea had done to her, Petra does not stop her ministrations, and instead continues to lap hungrily at each wave. She is far messier than her lover, with plenty of juices to spare splattered all over her face.

When she pulls back, her face is flushed with embarrassment. “You have my apologies. I could not help myself, I…”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Petra,” Dorothea whispered, eyes still swirling with stars. “You’re… wow… you’re certainly wild… always have been, really.”

“Perhaps next time, I will try to be going with slowness. But it being slow gives me… difficulty. I am wanting to give you the pleasure right away.”

“Nothing wrong with that. I kind of like it that way,” the songstress laughs. 

Petra sighs and slides downwards into her lover’s arms. Their naked bodies entangle, pressed together in post-coital bliss. As the waves crash upon the sand in the background, Dorothea closes her eyes and nuzzles herself into her queen’s neck.

“I could get used to this, you know,” Dorothea speaks. “The two of us. Here, on the beach.”

“You are… wanting to be having sex again here?” Petra inquires.

“Yes,” Dorothea confirms with a grin. “I suppose I don’t care if anyone sees us. Makes it a bit more fun, actually. The danger of it all.”

“Brigid is… different from Fodlan. People will not be minding even if we are, they will just look away. Having sex outside is normal.”

“If that’s the case, I look forward to finding other places we can enjoy ourselves in,” Dorothea adds with a wry smile, impure thoughts flooding her head. 

Their marriage was sure to be adventurous. 

**Author's Note:**

> There was a shamefully low amount of smut for these two, so I wrote this real quick. Please write more, people. Thanks for reading.


End file.
